There was another scream, and Sumeragi Genji ducked out of pure reflexive
habit. It was a good thing, too; a blade - broken, possibly part of a katana
- came flying from the kitchen, embedding itself into the wall above his
head. Cursing softly under his breath, Genji ran for the door.

He left behind him a weary, amazing man - the emperor of Japan, suffeirng
from the demon's ire as well, but still hanging on to his duties as the ruler
of the mightiest country in the world. He had called Genji in to give him
a solemn and frightening charge.

Find the demon and stop it before it ruined all of Japan.

Genji was a powerful onmyouji, it was true; he'd had the gift for it all
his life, and he personally guessed that one or both of his parents had,
too. But since he'd been the only survivor of a barbarian raid on his village,
an infant, he would never know. There were no records.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Genji removed an ofuda and looked at it, shaking
his head and breathing very carefully. He could feel a wave of that selfish,
powerful evil wash across him, almost moving like reflection of sun on glass,
but Genji steeled himself until it passed. This was getting more dangerous;
he was sure - somehow, instinctively sure - that the demon had the ability
to simply flood the entire country with this horror, but for some reason,
it was taking its time instead.

There was a possibility that the being was doing it because it was bored;
or perhaps because it didn't want everything to end too quickly. No humans
left alive meant no playthings, and if this were the case, then Genji had
a chance. Gritting his teeth and stuffing his ofuda back into his kimono
quickly, he stormed through the door and nearly collided with a woman coming
the other way.

Genji stopped as if he'd hit a wall. "Sakurazukamori," he hissed at her,
slipping his hand back into his robe as if to grab for a weapon.

The woman - petite, beautiful, stunningly elegant - smiled at him. Not that
she ever did anything else. "Now, Sumeragi-san," she chirped lightly,
her
voice somehow both rich and playful at once. "I'm not here to attack you
- "

"For once," Genji muttered, but she continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"Nor to try to seduce you again - stubborn that you are," she said, and
touched his chin. Genji leapt back as if her touch had burned. His eyes -
green, unusual if not unheard of in this land - narrowed, communicating things
he probably would not allow himself to say; and she laughed.

"Silly Sumeragi," she said, smiling and walked past him. "Perhaps once I
have won my case with the emperor, he will let me have you anyway. Such a
pretty thing..."

"You're sick."

She laughed again, as if she were only teasing and didn't mean what she
said. And to be honest, Genji wasn't sure if she did.

Everything about the Sakurazukamori was so... cool. So cold, so controlled,
so above everything that went on around her. And she used onmyoujitsu
to kill.

Genji had trouble explaning exactly why this was as wrong as he felt it
was. He knew it was, and would have willingly died to defend the belief,
but his view was very unusual and even somewhat unpopular. Of course one
used magic to kill - it was the best defensive/offensive weapon in existence.
Why wouldn't anyone want to do so?

"Because it's wrong," Genji muttered to himself, turning to leave once more
and ignoring the Sakurazukamori. But he couldn't resist a parting comment.

"You're too late, anyway," he said to her, looking at her. "He's already
guaranteed me the position - if I can do away with the demon on the mountain."

The Sakurazukamori stared at him. "What?" she said, quietly, for once not
smiling.

"You heard me," Genji said, and walked out before she could say anything
else. He had exaggerated a little, but not much; he knew if he could defeat
the demon - which he was already planning to fight, anyway - the Emperor
would certainly give him the position of chief onmyouji. And if that happened...

Well. Things would change around here. No more assassins of onmyouji - that
would never be allowed again, at least if he had his way. But all this daydreaming
was for later; for now, Genji had other things to do.

The demon was on the mountain, for the simple reason that it was easier
to see. He loved the chaos he created, and as he sat observing his kingdom
- HIS kingdom - he smiled at the carnage. Lifting one hand, he pointed at
the city below and simply moved his arm from one end of the horizon to the
other, as if decrying a line of real estate. Nothing visible came from his
hand, but the result was obvious immediately.

Every one within the range of that finger went completely mad.

For almost half an hour this went on, until the demon grew tired of it and
with a wave of his hand, cut the power off. Then he had fun watching them
scramble and try to make up for what they'd done, watching them find the
bodies of their loved ones they'd killed, watching them simply lean against
any available surface and wonder why they were going crazy and if the gods
had abandoned them.

Smiling, the demon licked his lips. He had had this city as his own for
a long time, but only recently had decided he was tired of waiting for the
End - for that end which was not to come for another two thousand years,
and even then, might not arrive if the Kamui chose to save his people. No,
the demon - known as Kyouran because of the frenzy, fury, and madness he
caused - wanted to play now.

And who was there to stop him? Japan's onmyouji were nothing. China would
not help; and no other brand of magic in all the world had an effect on his
particular kind of evil. There was no one to stand against him, no one in
his way; and if he brought the apocalypse early, then so be it. Kyouran would
not be caged.

The few who had tried to approach him were long dead. No one else dared,
or so he thought; and so it was for this reason that the discovery of a young,
slender, male human climbing his hill to meet him was somewhat
unexpected.

Kyouran let him come. It was something to do. It was only as the young man
approached that Kyouran recognized the thin, subtle play of power surrounding
this man. Narrowing his eyes, Kyouran ran through the mental list he'd made
of all the magic-users in Japan, and almost immediately came up with an answer.

"Sumeragi," he said, displeased, and waited for the boy to come.

Genji came. He had paced himself, careful not to end up tired at the end
of his climb; it had taken four hours, but he was still breathing normally.
Standing at the edge of the plain the demon had claimed as its own, Genji
stood, the wind ruffling the strands of hair that had come loose from his
ponytail. Silent, he looked.

A demon lord looked back. It was huge - almost twice his height - roughly
human-shaped, with strange, leathery skin and cloven hooves. And it was definitely
male; clearly unconcerned with its nakedness, the demon lounged, absurd manhood
coiled in its lap, and watched him. It seemed to be waiting for him to do
something.

Genji bowed. "Akuma-sama," he addressed it politely as he could, more
aware than ever of the glory that came with this evil thing, and almost sorry
that he'd have to destroy it.

The mouth in the demon's stomach yawned. "Sumeragi," it said, and then let
the mouth in its face do the rest of the speaking. "I killed your parents,"
it informed him casually, and Genji blinked.

A moment passed; Genji could feel himself getting distracted, could FEEL
it trying to distract him, and knew that it wasn't trying hard enough. It
didn't know it needed to - and if he was wise, he wouldn't give it the chance
to realize it's mistake.

Genji dropped his gaze. "You... what?" he said, letting more anger than
he felt creep into his tone because it was expected, and using the opportunity
to slide some ofuda into his hands from his sleeves. "But... why?"

The demon was beginning to look uninterested in him; the stomach-mouth yawned
again. "Because they were dangerous to me," the demon said, looking away
as if bored. "And I suppose you are, too - although I respect you for the
courage and will it took to bring you here. Tell me, Sumeragi: would you
prefer a quick death? Or a slower, mad one - to enjoy the sufferings of your
fellow man down below?"

Genji flinched. "What kind of a choice is that?" he said, clutching the
ofuda and hoping desperately that he could move fast enough.

"A fair one, Sumeragi," answered the demon, unconcerned as its stomach-mouth
began to lick the flesh around it as if cleaning. "And the only one anyone
is going to get -and I only offer it to you because you are here, and I am
bored. I can promise you this, Sumeragi, onmyouji: if you let me take your
mind, you won't know when you die. That is the glory of madness."

And for a moment, Genji swayed on his feet. He could feel the raw power
of this being, not overwhelming him only because it wasn't trying to, and
nearly fell. It sounded so seductive - so sweet. To simply slip into madness
and never even know the pain of death. To....

No. Genji looked up, without the willpower to hide his determination now,
but at least standing on his own feet by his own choice.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Akuma-sama," Genji said quietly, and closed
his eyes. "I'm afraid I only have one choice before me - and it's not something
you can give." And knowing that he was probably going to die, he summoned
all the power he could, all the power he'd been carefully and slowly gathering
since the emperor gave him his mission, and flung it at the demon.

Kyouran had not expected it. Such power from a human! He almost did not
move in time to avoid being burned; almost. With a lithe speed that belayed
his size, Kyouran leapt over and to the side, aiming for a spot just behind
the Sumeragi so as to surprise him when he landed. But Kyouran was in for
a surprise. He stopped, inches above the ground, frozen in place as he felt
the edges of a binding spell he'd not known was there come at him from all
sides.

Kyouran roared.

Genji knew the demon would have plenty of time to move, and it was hard
to stay steady, knowing that that much mass, that much EVIL was coming at
him. But stay still, he did; the blast of power he'd sent pretty much destroyed
the throne of the beast, and, as he'd hoped, the monster flew around and
tried to come down behind him.

Crossing his arms and clenching his fists as if around invisible ropes at
his sides, Genji leaned forward, braced himself, and pulled.

"HA!" he shouted, managing to pull his hands around as far as his chest;
and then the demon started fighting back.

A horrible roar, the combination of nightmare sounds and wild beasts, ripped
through the air and shook the earth, blasting Genji's back with white-hot
heat and covering him with spittle. It tried to get to him, both with claws
and power, straining against the extra walls Genji had put between him and
the monster, but it could not; teeth bared and buffetting as if in a strong
wind, Genji held his stance and pulled more tightly. His fists were now even
with one another, his arms uncrossed.

Kyouran roared, thrashed, cracked the earth beneath and around him, but
could not hit the Sumeragi with his power. Desperate, he tried to incite
other humans to come to his aid, but this was futile; anyone else was miles
away,
and
too concerned with their own problems to want to obey him.

Such was the burden of a being who worked through selfishness.

Desperate, he reached for the Sumeragi one last time, straining; and then,
the human unleased his final spell.

Genji knew at that moment that he could not do it.

He did not have the power necessary to destroy this creature. No one did
that now lived, and Genji could not help but wish he'd been one of the Seals
of heaven that was prophesied to come from his own line. Then he'd have the
power; but as things stood, he did not, and this left him only one choice.

He could not destroy it; so, he had to hide it.

Roaring almost as loud as the creature at his back, Genji wrenched his arms
further apart, straining his muscles and voice so hard that he was sore and
hoarse for the next two weeks. White power exploded around him, eclipsing
them both in its light, and with the last force of will he could muster,
Genji sealed it away.

There was an explosion of sound, heard as far away as Kyoto; the monster
suddenly disappeared, sucked into the earth to be buried alive, and sealed
by Genji's own power. It disappeared; Genji held his stance for a moment
longer, making sure his trickery had worked, making sure that this creature
would STAY where it was for as long as forever, if possible.

It was done.

Genji relaxed, exhausted; he fell forward onto his hands, the skin blistering
slightly where the monster's spittle had touched him, and gasped for air.
It was done; he did not even have to look to know that the chaos down below
had eased. That sanity had finally returned to Japan.

Genji could not return to the palace for two days. It took him that long
to drag himself off the mountain and to a place with medical aid, for though
he was not dying, he was hurt; and even then, he was not entirely surprised
to discover upon his return that he had been made officially the overseer
of all magic in Japan.

The Sakurazukamori was nowhere to be found; and with this, for now, Genji
would have to be content.

He did not spare a thought for the demon in the mountain; it would never
be freed so long as the earth stayed strong, and even if it did, there was
nothing he could do to stop it. He would not have the power to face it again,
not now that it knew his tricks; and he could only pray that if it ever were
released, it would be in a time when there were men who could face such a
creature.

He was sure that if it ever came back, next time... it would not be playing.

2,000 years later

The Tamagochi Blue Steel construction company had taken a great deal of
pride in winning the bid to work on this land. Belonging to the emperor's
estate, this particular foothill overlooked Tokyo with a glorious view, standing
just high enough above the city that a jeep was necessary to reach the place.
It guaranteed privacy and a sense of "special."

And of course, building the guest home here was costing a fortune.

The workers of Blue Steel were extremely pleased with winning the bid since
they didn't have much to do. The ground had been tested - it was solid bedrock
all through this area, and since the building would not require a basement,
this made their job all the easier. In fact, there were no problems at all
until the third day.

The men who actually saw it happen had trouble describing it because the
moment after it came, they were completely distracted. They were digging,
working on laying the foundation, plumbing and electricity for the house,
when suddenly there was a large, muted whump underneath their feet;
and suddenly, a puff of red smoke - it was red, everyone was positive on
this point - shot up from the earth and dissipated into the air.

At least, presumably it dissipated; no sooner had the men looked at it when
they found other things considerably more interesting.

There were fifteen fist-fights that day; two people abandoned the dig altogether,
and twenty-two attempted to carry off valuable equipment when they left.
All of these workers were tried and true, dependable, well-known and mature;
none could give an explanation for their behavior.

The foreman opted not to report the weirdness. It just seemed better for
such things to be kept quiet.

And far off, freed finally after two millennia of bondage, the demon Kyouran
watched and planned its revenge.